


The Santa Hat Cover Up

by HollyeLeigh



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drinking, F/M, Holidays, Meddling, Secret Relationship, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-18 19:03:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13106550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HollyeLeigh/pseuds/HollyeLeigh
Summary: CS Holiday AU Based on the prompt: We’ve been secretly dating, and our friends have arranged a setup for each of us at the annual holiday party. In an effort to continually escape our would-be dates, we polish off our drinks quickly so we can clandestinely meet and hook up under the guise of getting a refill. This, however, also gets us very drunk, very quickly…





	The Santa Hat Cover Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Itrustyoutokillme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itrustyoutokillme/gifts).



> Once Upon A Festive Gift Exchange 2017 for @artistic-writer
> 
> Much love and thanks to @ilovemesomekillianjones for giving this her trained eye so it could be the best gift possible!

* * *

 

“Emma! You made it!” Mary Margaret greeted excitedly as she welcomed her sister-in-law into the festive, holiday extravaganza that was the annual Nolan Christmas party, held each and every year in their classic and stately three story Victorian home.

“Of course I made it,” Emma replied, removing her coat and handing it to Mary Margaret. “Was there some sort of doubt that I would?”

“No, no,” Mary Margaret amended. “You’re just later than I expected you to be. Great dress, by the way,” she commented, ushering Emma further into the party, unaware that she’d just commented on the very reason for Emma’s tardiness.

Not one to put much fuss into her appearance, Emma had taken greater care in getting ready for the evening’s event. She would have scoffed at the idea that she wanted to look good for someone other than herself, but the fact was, she did want to look good for someone else. That someone had only been back to Storybrooke for a little over six weeks and their time together had consisted of stolen, but fleeting moments due to her work, his family obligations, and casual outings with too many friends around. Tonight she might actually get to spend some quality time with Killian Jones, and Emma wanted to make an impression.

They had to be cautious, though. No one knew about their relationship, and they had both agreed to wait until the stress filled holiday season was over before dropping that particular bombshell on their friends and family. Some, like her brother, David, and Killian’s brother, Liam, probably weren’t going to take the news too well. Especially when they learned that Emma and Killian had been secretly dating long distance for almost a year now.

To say that their respective brothers weren’t the biggest fans of either of them was probably an understatement. David’s opinion of Killian hadn’t changed much since college, when the dashingly handsome and accented man had a reputation for wooing just about anything in a skirt. An opinion that soured her brother to Killian completely when he and Mary Margaret had been in the same class as Jones, and Killian kept flirting with Mary Margaret in an attempt to get her to share her notes with him when he missed class.

All of that was before Killian had met Emma, and though he was still a dashingly handsome, hopeless flirt, there hadn’t been anyone other than Emma since the moment they had met.

A meeting that had caused Liam’s dislike for Emma.

Almost getting one’s little brother killed would probably cause anyone to have feelings of animosity towards a person. But it wasn’t like Emma _meant_ for things to escalate that way, and Killian was fine in the end. He even seemed to enjoy the rush of helping her take down a skip, even if it did mean he’d had a gun (which hadn’t even ended up being loaded), pointed at him. All she’d asked him to do was play along so she could entrap a dirtbag. Who knew there were still gentlemen in the world who were willing to step in and defend others they perceived were in trouble?

It had all ended without any unnecessary violence, although Emma hadn’t been too sure it wouldn’t escalate further once her brother and his partner arrived to collect her skip. His _new_ partner... who also happened to be Killian’s big brother. _What were the odds?_ Liam hadn’t taken too kindly to Emma’s methods of involving _civilians_ in her takedowns. Killian had argued on her behalf, but it all fell on deaf ears. Emma had risked his little brother’s life, and as far as Liam was concerned she henceforth only merited cold civility out of respect for his partner.

Killian had felt she merited something of a warmer regard, so despite both their brothers’ feelings, he had immediately begun his pursuit. It had taken some time, but Emma finally came around, just as Killian was about to leave on a research expedition… for ten long months.

The twelve days they’d shared together before he’d left had been some of the best of Emma’s life, and not just because they’d rarely left whatever bed they’d happened to find themselves in.

He made her happy.

She hadn’t been sure they could make the time and distance between them work while he was gone, but Killian had continued to pursue her from thousands of miles, and several time zones, away. It hadn’t always been easy, but being in a relationship with Killian Jones was something Emma never even knew she wanted, or needed. They made each other better.

Hopefully everyone would see that once they went public.

Emma made her way into the kitchen where the drink station was always set up and her gaze immediately landed on the very man she’d been most eager to _run into_. Her eyes widened and she stifled a laugh at his appearance. Dressed in his usual sinfully tight jeans and a festively colored green henly, he also sported a novelty Santa hat which was perched atop his head.

Emma quirked a brow at him as she entered the kitchen. “That’s quite a hat you’ve got there, Jones,” she teased, pouring herself a healthy portion of wine.

“That’s quite a dress you’ve got on, Swan,” he quipped back, his tone lacking the seductive and salacious edge she’d expected this particular dress to draw from him.

“Is there something wrong with it?”

“Aye. There is,” he replied flatly before he finished off the beer he’d been drinking and crossed the kitchen towards her.

“What?”

He set his now empty beer bottle on the counter beside her, leaned in, and whispered into her ear, “It isn’t currently lying on my bedroom floor.” The low, dulcet purr of his words sent a shiver of desire through her, which only intensified under the smoldering stare of his darkened gaze.

“Shhh,” she admonished, looking over his shoulder to ensure there was no one around to overhear them.

“Tell me that isn’t where you were envisioning it ending up when you put it on,” he challenged, drawing his lower lip between his teeth as he arched his brows knowingly.

“I’ll tell you what I was envisioning,” she began in her own sultry tone, “when you tell me why you’re wearing that ridiculous Santa hat.”

Killian chuckled and rocked back on his heels, putting a bit of space between them in case someone walked in.

“Your brother told me I wasn’t festive enough with my outfit and made me choose a hat to wear,” he explained. “It was this, reindeer antlers on a headband, or an elf’s hat with those massive plastic ears. Headbands give me a headache, and I already have my own set of elf ears, so-”

“Santa hat it is,” she finished for him, eyeing those delectable little elvish ears and wishing she could take a nibble.

“Figured it couldn’t hurt to try and win a few points with him before the big announcement after the New Year.”

“What announcement?” Mary Margaret asked as she entered the kitchen, making both Emma and Killian startle.

“Oh, uh,” Killian floundered for a moment, reaching up to scratch at his ear before he said, “nothing, really. A work thing.”

“Oh. Well. That’s nice,” Mary Margaret responded politely before turning her attention to her sister-in-law. “Emma. There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

* * *

 

Killian’s attention focused on the man accompanying Mary Margaret into the kitchen. A tall man with brown hair, slightly longer and with more curl than his brother Liam’s. He sported a light beard and had an _outdoorsman_ air about him. Killian thought he might have seen the man before, but the context of where and when escaped him.

“Emma, I’d like you to meet Graham Humbert. He works with David and Liam at the precinct,” Mary Margaret introduced, answering Killian’s internal inquiry. “Graham, this is Emma Swan, my sister-in-law.”

“A pleasure to meet you Emma,” Graham greeted with an outstretched hand and a familiar Irish accent; one that sounded much like Killian’s grandad back in his mother’s homeland.

“Yeah, um,” Emma replied, accepting his proffered hand, “nice to meet you, too.”

“I thought it would be nice for the two of you to meet,” Mary Margaret added with a sly smile and self-satisfied glint in her eye.

A smile and glint that had the muscle in Killian’s jaw twitching as he took in the appraising way Humbert was looking over _his_ Swan.

“Not sure if we’ve been introduced before, mate,” Killian interjected, drawing the man’s attention away from Emma. “Killian Jones. Liam’s-”

“Little brother,” Humbert finished. “Yeah, I know.”

“Younger,” Killian grumbled. He saw Emma’s eyes dance with mirth, trying to suppress a laugh at his forever losing battle with Liam’s moniker for him.

“Oh, Killian,” Mary Margaret chimed in, “that reminds me. Liam was looking for you. I think he’s in the den.”

Being the perceptive man that he was, Killian knew a dismissal when he heard one. He shot Emma a disgruntled look, which furthered her amusement, and exited the kitchen in search of his brother. Plagued by the image of Emma in that enticingly wicked red dress, and all the wicked things he’d like to do to her out of it, Killian didn’t immediately register the calling of his name.

“Kil-li-an!”

“Aye!” he responded to his brother’s incessant hounding. “What?”

“There’s someone I’d like you to meet, little brother,” Liam responded, a little too cheerily. Killian rolled his eyes and muttered _younger_ only noticing the woman standing next to his brother as Liam offered introductions. “Ruby Lucas, this is my brother Killian. Killian, this is Ruby. She’s a social worker that’s helped the department on a number of cases. I thought the two of you should meet.”

Killian shook Ruby’s hand and offered her a polite smile, all the while putting the pieces of this strikingly familiar scenario together.

This was a set-up.

He and Emma were being set up. Individually. By their families. A week before they intended to reveal their relationship to everyone.

_Bloody fantastic._

He was going to need another drink.

“A pleasure to meet you Miss Lucas, and my sympathies to you for having to deal with this moody arse,” Killian teased, slapping his brother’s shoulder as Liam cried out an indignant _hey_. “I hope you enjoy the party, lass, but if you’ll excuse me, I’m in need of another drink.” Killian turned for a quick getaway, only to be halted by his infuriating brother.

“Splendid idea, little brother. I’m sure Ruby could do with a bit of refreshment as well.”

Killian plastered on his most convincing expression of agreeability before he turned back. “Of course. What’ll it be, Miss Lucas?”

“Oh! Uh… a glass of cabernet would be great,” she answered, casting uncomfortable side glances at Liam while attempting to keep a pleasant smile on her namesake colored lips.

“Coming right up.” Killian shot his brother a meaningful look before turning once more to head back to the kitchen. He was relieved when he saw Swan in there as well… alone.

“I think we’re being set-up,” she stated, pouring herself another a glass of wine.

“Aye. Unfortunately, it isn’t with one another,” he agreed with a long suffering sigh, reaching for the bottle of cabernet in her hands. “Didn’t you just pour yourself a glass?”

“Yep. I drank it already.” Killian cocked a brow at her, and she smiled conspiratorially as she added, “I finished it quickly so I’d have a reason to excuse myself from Mr. Outdoorsy McRugged.” Killian chuckled at the nickname Swan had bestowed upon her would-be suitor, but lost all mirth at her next words. “Although, he’s not so bad. Sweet, funny, good-looking, killer accent. A girl could get setup with worse.”

Killian knew she was only goading him; her intent was confirmed by the mischievous gleam peering over the rim of her glass as she took a drink.

“Aye,” Killian responded, ready to play along. “Such a man seems like quite a catch. Very much like the lovely lass Liam has introduced me to.”

“You mean Leggy McHottie?” Emma peered out the doorway of the kitchen, attempting to catch another glimpse of the attractive brunette still standing with Liam. “Yeah, okay. I guess I can see the appeal.”

Killian gently grasped the wrist of her wine free hand and pulled Emma into him. Her eyes widened at his boldness, and a surprised noise caught at the back of her throat when he pressed his lips to hers.

“She isn’t half as appealing as you are, darling,” he murmured against Emma’s lips before pressing in again, urging her to respond in kind as he swept his tongue over the seam of her mouth, nipping lightly at her bottom lip when she complied.

“Killian,” Emma groaned in response to his wayward lips making their way to the side of her neck and up towards her ear.

“Yes, love?” Killian he asked innocently, nibbling on her earlobe.

“We have to stop,” she feebly insisted. “Someone’s going to come in here and catch us.”

“Afraid your mountain man might get jealous?” Killian grumbled.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say _you_ were jealous.”

“Of another man getting to lavish his attentions on the woman I love? You bet your delectable little arse I’m jealous,” he growled, and a swell of satisfaction coursed through him at the shiver he felt roll over her.

Emma pulled away and fixed her eyes - her darkened, dilated, desire filled eyes - on his. “Do you want to just tell everyone now?”

Killian held his breath in a moment of consideration before exhaling with resolve. “No. I don’t want to cast a pall over the party and my brother is sure to make a scene over it.”

“He won’t be making it alone,” Emma reminded him. “I’d like to tell everyone in a place where David _doesn’t_ have quick access to firearms.

Killian snorted, then sobered at Emma’s expression. _David wouldn’t_ actually _pull a gun on him, surely._

The two moved to put more space between them as they heard footfalls come towards the doorway.

“Emma, would you bring Graham a beer when you come ba-.” Emma’s brother stopped short at  Killian’s presence. “Oh. Hello, Jones,” David acknowledged tersely.

“David,” Killian greeted back, making a show of filling a wine glass before grabbing himself a beer. “Well, I’m off to deliver refreshments of my own. Cheers!” Emma gave him a small smile as he passed her to exit the kitchen.

 

* * *

 

Someone was going to catch on at some point. The rate at which she and Killian were polishing off their drinks, just so they could ditch their _dates_ and meet up again in the kitchen was becoming ridiculous. After their fourth rendezvous had been thwarted by a lively group of chatty co-workers from Mary Margaret’s school, they had agreed to meet out on the patio after their next empty beverage.

“Swan?” she heard Killian slur out into the darkness beyond the illuminated confines of the yard.

“Over here,” she whisper yelled back at him, noticing the slight stumble in his usually steady swagger as he approached.

Emma giggled at the lopsided grin he gave (and the lopsided Santa hat still perched atop his head), a giggle that was a sure tell of the large quantities of alcohol coursing pleasantly through her bloodstream. Killian seemed to recognize it at once.

“I think you might be a little drunk, Swan,” he chided with false seriousness, wagging his finger at her for emphasis.

“I think _you_ might be a little drunk, Jones.”

“Most definitely, love. Care to take advantage of me?” he purred, the shadows of the dark corner they found themselves in obscuring the smirk and brow she knew were being playfully offered to her.

“Hell yes!” she agreed, maybe a little too loudly. “Meet me on the third floor in ten minutes.” Emma pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and scurried past him. Her giggle echoed off the stone patio in response to his exasperated _Swan!_

Emma made her way through the crowd of party goers, trying to draw as little attention as possible. Just when she thought she was free and clear to make it towards the back staircase, someone caught her by the elbow.

“Emma! Where have you been?” Mary Margaret admonished. “You are being very rude to Graham.”

It took a moment for her sister-in-law’s words to register in Emma’s rather tipsy state, but she wasn’t too drunk to notice the cozy little scene playing out just over Mary Margaret’s shoulder.

“I don’t think he minds,” Emma chortled, lifting her chin in the direction of a besotted looking Graham who only seemed to have eyes for Leggy McHottie.

“Isn’t that the woman Liam introduced Killian to?”

“Yup,” Emma replied with an inebriated pop of the P.

“Where _is_ Killian?”

“Uh… probably in the den with Liam,” Emma fibbed in an attempt to send her sister-in-law in the opposite direction of the man in question, lest she see him come into the house and follow Emma’s path up the stairs, which she still needed to get to without causing suspicion. “Sorry, Mary Margaret but I’ve got to… use the ladies room.”

“Well, go ahead and use the one upstairs. The one down here has a line.” _How fortuitous,_ Emma thought silently to herself. At least, she hoped it was silent. “And Emma, honey,” Mary Margaret began with her stern teacher’s voice, “switch to water.”

* * *

 

Killian made his way down the darkened third story hallway calling out Emma’s name in what he hoped was a hushed voice. A wide grin broke across his face when the creak of a door opening to his left sounded, and the _come hither_ curl of Emma’s finger beckoned him forward.

A hopelessly tangled ball of white Christmas lights plugged into the wall was the only source of light in what appeared to be something of a storage room. Boxes labeled for each and every season, holiday, or festive occasion were meticulously organized throughout the space with odds and ends of old furnishings arranged among them.

“Mary Margaret takes her decorative acknowledgment of every possible occasion quite seriously, doesn’t she?” Killian remarked with a small chuckle while taking in his surroundings.

“I thought it was the least likely place we’d be caught doing anything naughty,” Emma explained coyly as she ran her hands up his chest and then around his neck, playfully flicking the puffed tip of his Santa hat.

“Have you been naughty this year, Swan?” Killian questioned seductively, settling his hands at her hips.

“Very,” she answered, leaning in to press her lips against his, but he teasingly avoided them and pressed on with his provoking inquiry.

“Are you sure? I believe I’m supposed to check twice.”

“How do you suggest going about that?” she asked with a faint hint of irritation in her voice at the extreme lack of kissing on his part.

“Well, let’s have a look at your naughty bits to find out, shall we?” he whispered wickedly into her ear, bringing his hand around to the back of her dress.

Killian slowly guided the zipper down the expanse of her back and slipped the dress off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. He drew in a sharp breath at the discovery that she hadn’t been wearing anything underneath it.

“Oh, my dear, Swan,” he half groaned at the glorious sight before him. “You have, indeed, been very, very naughty.”

Killian pressed in to capture her lips and his hands reached for her breasts, only to have his wrists caught in Emma’s hands as she took her turn to shy away from his advances.

“Ah, ah, ah!” she admonished with a mischievous smirk. “It’s my turn to do the unwrapping.”

She made quick work divesting Killian of his clothes, while somehow remaining just out of groping range. In his defense, his reflexes weren’t at peak performance level given the number of beers he’d consumed in quick succession over the evening.

Now on equal, naked, footing, Emma took his hand and led him towards a leather loveseat. “Bring Santa’s little helper over here,” she said in jest, pulling him into her arms.

“Excuse me?” Killian responded in mocked offense. “Little? I think you’ll find that Santa has a rather large package to gift you with.” He pressed his hips, and his rather sizable offering against the apex of her thighs and they both moaned at the contact.

“Oh, really?” she breathlessly challenged.

“Aye,” he countered and stepped out of her embrace to set himself down on the loveseat. He met her pouting expression with a salacious stare. “In fact, be a good girl and come sit on Santa’s lap so you can tell him what else you might like him to give you.” The timbre of his voice a low, seductive rumble as he issued the command.

With Emma settled onto his lap, grinding torturously over his aching member, they exchanged frantically impassioned nips at one another’s lips with a sloppy dance of their tongues. Hands roamed haphazardly over eager bodies, and fingers disheveled hair as they buried themselves within each others tresses, Emma knocking his ridiculous Santa hat to the floor. When they finally focused themselves enough to allow him entrance into her slick, heated core, every party goer two floors down could probably hear the joint moan that reverberated between them.

“Bloody hell, Emma,” Killian panted. “I’ve wanted to bury myself inside you since the moment you stepped into the kitchen.”

“And I’ve wanted to… oh,” she moaned, rocking her hips against his and leaning down towards his ear to finish her thought, “I’ve wanted to feast on these elf ears ever since I saw you in that stupid Santa hat.”

Killian hissed at the pleasurable pain her teeth caused as they sank into the lobe and cartilage of his ear, then released his own moan as she soothed it over with the swipe of her tongue.

“They say Santa was a jolly ol’ elf,” Killian quipped, meeting her gaze as she turned her eyes back to his.

With a seductively sly smirk set on her lips, Emma arched back and Killian’s grip on her waist tightened at the change of position. Coherent thought escaped him momentarily when she began a gloriously tormenting pace.

“Let’s see how jolly we can make this little elf,” she teased, pressing her breasts up towards him as she arched further back, trusting in his strong grip to keep her anchored to him.

“What did I say about the _little_ references, Swan,” he growled. Administering retribution with his teeth, grazing perhaps a tad too hard against her nipple, he pulled it into his mouth to lave sincere apologies upon it with his tongue.

Emma held firm to his shoulders, and she threw her head back as their pace quickened. The heady sounds of slapping skin, ragged breaths, and filthy utterances filled the room around them as they chased their release. Emma fell first, her euphoric expression and clenched evidence of satisfaction around his member propelled him to follow. He spent himself with guttural cries that could betray their activities to the party below.

Emma collapsed against his chest, their breaths and heartbeats harmonizing as Killian held her in his arms, and buried his face into the crook of her neck.

“Is your elf good and jolly?” Emma murmured against his chest, drawing a deep chuckle from him.

“Aye, love,” he replied. “Extremely.”

“Good,” she replied, lifting her head to meet his gaze. “We should probably get back downstairs before we’re missed.”

“Probably,” he agreed, though he made no attempt to let her go. “But first…”

“What?” she pressed when he didn’t continue.

Killian pressed a tender kiss to her lips and whispered, “I love you.”

Emma smiled against the feather light touch of his mouth and replied, “I love you, too.”

They had only a moment to enjoy each other’s loving embrace and their post bliss euphoria before the sound of voices out in the hallway startled them.

“There’s a few more folding chairs in the storage room.” David’s voice outside the door prompted them into quick action and slight terror as they realized their clothing was too far away to grab.

“Here,” Emma called out, before wrapping an old tree skirt she’d found around herself.

Killian looked down at his feet to see the object she’d tossed in his direction, and with only a second to spare, he snatched the item off the floor and used it to cover his most sensitive area.

David and Liam entered the room and flicked on the light. They both froze at the doorway, taking in the scandalous holiday display before them.

Emma was barely encased in faded motifs of snowmen and reindeer, while Killian stood before them with nothing more than a Santa hat covering his manhood.

“Um… I can explain,” Emma offered quickly.

The red tinge that was quickly working its way to purple in David’s face was becoming more alarming by the second.

“No explanation needed, lass,” Liam replied tersely before giving Killian a pointed look. “It seems Santa already _came_ to town.”

If possible, David’s complexion seemed to darken further.

“You’re not carrying your gun by chance, are you, mate?” Killian questioned, half teasing and half judging whether or not he’d need to take evasive action.

“Relax, little brother,” Liam responded. There was a humorous edge lacing his words which caught Killian off guard.

Emma shot Killian a confused and incredulous look as they both witnessed Liam break down into a fit of laughter. All the while David continued to stare Killian down with a murderous glare.

“Liam? What-” Killian began, internally questioning his brother’s sanity in the moment (not that the sight before Liam, and the situation as a whole wasn’t completely ridiculous).

“Pay up, mate,” Liam needled David, causing Killian’s jaw to practically hit the ground.

“Pay up? You knew?!” Killian accused.

“Of course I knew,” Liam answered. “I may not know exactly when it all became official between the two of you, but you were gone for Emma Swan the moment she roped you into her crazy takedown scheme.”

“And you had some sort of bet going?!” Emma snarled at her brother, whose face had finally settled back into a more normal shade of human.

“Aye,” Liam answered, “and I won. So pay up partner.”

Killian could only shake his head as he watched David reach into his pocket and slap what looked like a crisp one hundred dollar bill into Liam’s outstretched palm.

“Happy Christmas to me,” Liam crowed as he swept into the room, gathered several chairs into his arms, and sauntered back out the door, but not before casting one last look at Killian and guffawing all the way down the hall.

Killian and Emma faced David’s scrutiny a moment longer before the man finally found his voice, “He makes you happy, right?”

“Yes,” Emma answered vehemently.

“You know what I’ll do to you if you hurt her, right?”

“Aye, mate. I do.”

Another moment of tension passed between them before David nodded and stepped forward, an action that absolutely did not make Killian flinch backward. He grabbed several chairs of his own, and made his way back towards the door.

Pausing, David turned back to add, “Oh, and Jones...”

“Mate?”

“Keep the hat.”

THE END


End file.
